Starts With Goodbye
by Sweet Lunacy
Summary: Jenny's thoughts during "Hiatus Part II" when Gibbs leaves, with a Jibbs-y twist at the end. Kind of bittersweet angst. One-shot.


**A/N: It has always bothered me that Gibbs never said goodbye to Jenny when he left in "Hiatus Part II". Even over ten years later, it still makes me mad. Anyway, hope you enjoy! The opening scene dialogue is directly taken from the episode, everything else is mine. Jibbs, as always. Duh.**

* * *

It was nearly a full minute before Jenny Shepard was truly able to comprehend what was happening. Surely he wasn't serious. Leroy Jethro Gibbs would never just quit NCIS. Angrily yell, throw things across the room, scream at suspects in interrogation, mainline coffee and bourbon into his bloodstream while he worked, but never _quit_. She stared at the seat across from her desk, the very seat he had just vacated, and frowned. He was going to turn around and change his mind. She was sure of it.

Or, maybe not. As she stood on shaky legs, she made her way to the catwalk, leaning against the railing as he walked through the squad room, searching for his badge and gun.

"Oh, uh, I got 'em, boss," Tony called, "I, uh, got them from the medics when they took you."

"Appreciate it," Gibbs replied shortly, walking closer to the younger agent.

He placed the badge on top of the gun, setting them firmly in Tony's hand and placing his own hand on his shoulder.

"You'll do," he said with a slight smile, "It's your team now."

He looked at him seriously for a moment longer before making his way to McGee, pointedly ignoring the shocked expression on Abby's face as he passed.

"Tim, you're a good agent. Don't let him tell you otherwise."

McGee nodded gravely, his eyes never leaving the silver-haired agent.

"I won't, boss."

Approaching Abby now, he quickly placed his finger over her lips, silencing her protests before she could do anything more than utter his name in quiet disbelief. He kissed her cheek without a word, almost as if he were afraid of what he might say and turned to the Israeli standing silently behind him. Jenny couldn't quite make out what was said from her position on the stairs, but her eyes never left him as he walked towards the medical examiner and asked for a ride home. He turned just in front of the elevator, looking over at his former team, and when his eyes met hers, she was sure that her pain and shock was as clear as the sun on a summers day.

"Semper Fi," he said, inclining his head to them.

As the elevator doors shut behind him, Jenny found herself simply staring at the place he had stood, willing her tears not to fall.

* * *

She couldn't move. Couldn't speak, couldn't _think_. How could he leave? How could he just throw away everything that he had worked for? How could he not tell her goodbye? After all they'd been through together, he was going to leave without even so much as a farewell, not even a "Nice knowing you, Jen"? It was devastating to watch him walk away, heartbreaking, even...but underneath it, she could feel the beginnings of anger building. Who the hell did he think he was?

She slammed her empty glass of bourbon on the desk in her study, furiously wiping away the tears that she had finally allowed to fall, and reached for the decanter with trembling hands. She poured a large measure of amber liquid into the glass, tipping it back quickly, and she closed her eyes, shuddering as it hit her.

"You're supposed to drink it slowly, Jen."

Jenny opened her eyes, glaring at the man standing in the doorway to her study and frowned.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged.

"I had a feeling you'd drink tonight. And they say you should never drink alone."

She laughed bitterly.

"What makes you think I'd offer to share?" she snapped.

"I know you," he said simply.

In truth, he'd merely hoped she would, but there was no way in hell that he was going to admit that he still had a few blank spots surrounding their relationship. He still wasn't sure if they had that kind of friendship anymore. She nodded and gestured to the glass sitting on the shelf to his right.

"Get your own glass. This one's mine."

He nodded, picking up the glass and approaching her desk slowly. Reaching for the decanter, he watched her carefully as he poured, searching for any sign that she was angry with him, and it was in her eyes that he found it. The fury behind her emerald eyes was so strong that he could almost touch it, and he frowned.

"You're mad."

She rolled her eyes, pulling the decanter from his hand and pouring another drink into her glass.

"Of course I'm mad," she muttered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "We lost a lot of good men today."

She didn't add that he himself was among those men, and his mind was still too foggy for him to catch her double meaning.

"I tried, Jenny."

She shook her head, running her hand through her short red hair. He would never tell her, but he absolutely hated her hair short. It was harsh, giving her an unapproachable vibe, and it simply didn't suit her. The Jenny he'd known and remembered had been warm, fiery and formidable no doubt, but still welcoming. Then again, his memory wasn't exactly the most reliable right now. Perhaps her hair fit the woman he now saw in front of him.

He doubted it. She hadn't changed that much over the years. She'd matured, grown, and while she certainly wasn't the young inexperienced probie he'd once trained, she still knew how to have fun. That Jenny was still there, underneath the professional Director persona she'd crafted. He hadn't even realised that he had separated them in his mind until now, but Jenny and Director Shepard were two completely different people. He simply had no idea which one of them he was dealing with right now.

"I know you tried, Jethro," she told him, taking a long drink of her bourbon, "That isn't what I'm mad about."

He frowned, raising his own glass.

"What is?"

"You left," she said quietly.

"Jen—"

"You left, and you didn't even say _goodbye_."

Suddenly, he understood what the look in her eyes had been as he'd looked into them in front of the elevator. She'd been waiting for him to give her the same goodbye he'd given his team. In a way, he couldn't blame her for being angry, but she didn't understand. If he'd spoken to her, if he'd given her any chance to speak, he wouldn't have been able to walk away.

Or, maybe she did. From what he remembered of their previous relationship, Jenny had always seemed to know what he was thinking, almost as though she could read his mind. He knew that she still could, judging by the look in her eyes, and he sighed. She didn't speak, and he didn't offer any words of his own, merely watching her as she drained her bourbon.

He finished his own, and she looked to the door pointedly. He knew what she meant, but he stayed where he was. Sighing, she stood up, and began walking to the door, stepping over the threshold into the hallway. He followed her silently, and as she stopped in front of her front door, he stared down at her silently, noticing that she refused to meet his eyes.

"Jen?"

There was no indication that she'd heard him, but he knew she had. He placed his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up, and she finally looked into his eyes. Before he could second-guess his actions, he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers gently, and he felt her slowly respond to him. He parted her lips with his tongue, slipping into her mouth easily, and his left hand pulled her closer as his right tangled into her hair.

He pulled away from her, staring down into her viridian eyes seriously, and he gave her one last chaste kiss before he let go of her.

"You didn't really think I would leave without saying goodbye, did you?"

He cupped her cheek gently, kissing her one final time and he let his lips linger as he spoke, his breath warm on her skin.

"Goodbye, Jen."

Pulling open the door, he walked slowly to his truck, not looking back and refusing to look at her house as he put the vehicle in gear. Jenny stood in silent shock for nearly two minutes after he'd gone, half expecting to wake up from a twisted dream. Finally, she seemed to snap out of her daze, and her fingers lightly touched her lips, still feeling the ghost of his last kiss. Her voice was merely a whisper as she spoke, and she didn't even attempt to wipe her tears away as they fell.

"Goodbye, Jethro."

* * *

**A/N: The heartbroken look on Jenny's face makes me nearly cry every time I watch that final scene in the squad room. Lauren's such a great actress. Mark is fantastic, too. God, I love them both so much.**


End file.
